


cheats (almost) never prosper

by deadeyeboy



Series: it runs in the family [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Double Penetration in Two Holes, M/M, Trans Character, Trans Hanzo Shimada
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 13:06:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15486426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadeyeboy/pseuds/deadeyeboy
Summary: Hanzo attempts to knock some sense into Genji during a sparring session. Genji may have one or two unorthodox tricks up his sleeve - as well as a little outside interference.





	cheats (almost) never prosper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Muja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muja/gifts).



> commission for Muja! some good ol fashioned brother-brother-father action with some good ol fashioned double penetration.
> 
> please note that i used terms like clit/pussy/cunt for Hanzo's genitals, so please don't read if that bothers you

“Pay attention,” Hanzo barks.

His cheeks are flushed a pretty shade of pink: delicate points of his indignant anger high on his cheekbones. His dark eyes flash dangerously, lips pulled back into an elegant sneer.

Genji affects an air of indifference as much as he can when confronted with such a sight, deadly, gorgeous. As much as he can when he’s flat on his back with his brother’s forearm digging into his throat — not hard enough to cut off his air, but enough to make speaking difficult.

“Come _on_ , Hanzo,” he wheezes out, patting clumsily at his brother’s elbow. “We’ve been training for an entire hour now. How much longer do we have to keep doing this?”

Hanzo narrows his eyes. “Until you even make an attempt at putting me on the mat.” Genji makes a grand show of rolling his eyes, just to hear the irritated click of Hanzo’s tongue. “Clearly I’ve been letting you slack too much. It’s pathetic.”

“Yeah, well—” Genji grimaces as the pressure on his throat increases. He braces his hands against Hanzo’s forearm and attempts to shove him off, but with what little leverage he has he might as well be trying to push a brick wall. “Let’s hurry it up, yeah?” he rasps. “I’m supposed to meet Yumi and the others downtown at six.”

The noise that Hanzo makes — the guttural snarl of frustration — shouldn’t go straight to Genji’s dick, but it does. The firm pressure of Hanzo’s ass straddling his hips doesn’t help either.

It does give Genji an idea, though.

Without warning, he bucks up. Just as Genji predicted, Hanzo reflexively pushes back to keep him pinned, and the swelling heat of Genji’s dick slides against the cleft of his ass.

Hanzo falters only for a split second, eyes widening slightly — but it’s enough for Genji to take advantage of, shoving Hanzo off of him with a grunt of exertion and rolling away.

Hanzo reels back across the mat before Genji can pin him himself, the angry pink of his cheeks spreading out to his ears.

“That’s playing dirty,” he spits. Hackles raised.

Genji leers as he gingerly eases himself to his feet, his body aching from the brutal treatment he’d been given earlier.

“You really expect your opponent to play fair in an actual fight?” he says, just to see Hanzo bristle and sputter like a startled cat.

“Enough.” A furious hiss, teeth flashing. “Be _serious_ , Genji.”

Genji’s rusty from weeks of skipping practice, but he easily settles into the ready stance. One foot forward, the other behind and splayed to the side. He smirks and lifts his hand, beckoning with two fingers in a gesture that’s almost lewd. Irreverently cocky. “I’m deadly serious, big brother.”

Hanzo is too well-trained to let his (admittedly foul) temper get the best of him. Which is why Genji is caught off guard when Hanzo darts forward, teeth bared.

Only by sheer instinct does he manage to dodge the elbow jab aimed for his solar plexus. He winces as it glances off his ribs instead, dancing to one side before Hanzo can swing around with a follow-up heel to the face.

“No holding back, then?” he pants. He ducks a split-second later. Hanzo’s fist grazes his scalp as it whistles just over his head.

Genji will take that as a firm ‘no’.

He’s always been the quicker of the two, but here’s the thing: Hanzo has put on a lot of muscle in the months that Genji has begged off training. Every blow that does connect _hurts_ ; Genji’s body will be a patchwork of black and blue come the morning.

What’s more, if Genji knows his big brother — and he does — Hanzo has spent the past months perfecting his coordination and fighting techniques to a ‘T.’ The only techniques Genji’s put any real thought into lately are those to do with his lips and tongue.

Sometimes his hands.

So Genji spends less time sparring and more time glancing and dodging Hanzo’s brutal, bone-jarring strikes. More time admiring the glitter of his fierce dark eyes, the sweat glistening on the sharp lines of his face.

Big brother is always so especially beautiful in his anger.

Maybe that speaks volumes for Genji’s behavior.

Twice he manages to land a quick jab to Hanzo’s side, swift, stinging. All it does is further incense Hanzo’s ire.

More bruises to bloom brilliant shades of yellow and violet across Genji’s skin.

Genji is losing steam, sweat dripping down his brow and off the tip off his nose. His only consolation is that Hanzo doesn’t look much better. Face blotchy with exertion, shoulders heaving, but eyes still alight with some sort of indignant exhilaration.

Genji has to wonder if Hanzo gets off on it too. Beating the shit out of him, that is.

His savior is the slide of the shoji door. Genji glances over Hanzo’s heaving shoulder at the intruder and perks up like a dog offered a treat. Sojiro is still dressed in a suit from the negotiations of the day, slightly rumpled. There are tense lines around his eyes.

Still, he smirks at Genji behind Hanzo’s back. Hanzo’s shoulders draw up: he knows who it is. Can feel the weight of his gaze.

He’s distracted for just a split second, eyes darting to the side.

It’s enough.

Genji charges forward and drives his elbow hard into Hanzo’s stomach. Hanzo wheezes, eyes bulging. Genji is nearly clipped in the face by his winded counter-strike, just managing to twist to one side and behind Hanzo.

Seconds later they’re both toppling to the ground, Hanzo belly-first with Genji on his back. They hit the mat with a solid thud.

Sojiro chuckles quietly. “Well done,” he says.

Beneath Genji, Hanzo writhes and spits like a rabid thing. Genji can almost sense the wounds to his pride, and he knows that, inspired by that kind of ire, Hanzo might be able to throw him off at any second. So he acts quickly.

He rolls his hips deep and slow, rubbing himself against Hanzo’s ass. His lips crack into a grin as Hanzo goes rigid, an angry gurgle dying out in his throat. Hanzo’s head drops, his hands curling into fists on the mat.

Genji chances another glance at their father, triumph, arousal swelling in his belly like the tide. Sojiro tips his head approvingly. He’s gently fondling himself through the front of his slacks. Powerful, utterly assured.

“Everyone has their weaknesses,” he says, dropping his hand and leisurely moving closer. His slacks tent out with every step; Genji finds himself transfixed. His mouth starts to water on pure Pavlovian reflex.

He thinks Hanzo might be staring too, up through the curtain of his eyelashes and the strands of hair that have come loose from his severe bun. Genji smoothes a hand down Hanzo’s back, enjoying the way that the taut muscle ripples under the skin, then back up to tug the golden ribbon from Hanzo’s hair. It cascades around Hanzo’s shoulders and around his face like inky silk.

Genji knows how much their father likes it when Hanzo has his hair down.

The tips of Hanzo’s ears are bright red. He knows too.

They both know who it reminds Sojiro of.

“Father,” Hanzo rasps, almost petulant. It’s as close to pouting as he’ll ever get, as Genji has ever heard him.

Sojiro kneels down in front of them. He hooks a forefinger under Hanzo’s chin and tilts his face up. Genji feels more than hears Hanzo’s shuddery little gasp, the way he goes completely still.

Sojiro’s eyes crinkle around the edges.

He swipes his thumb over Hanzo’s lower lip. “See this as a lesson, Hanzo: how to be gracious in defeat.” The muscles in Hanzo’s back bunch up all at once beneath Genji’s thighs, quivering in the effort it takes to contain a snarl. Sojiro hums once, toneless, impatient. “Prideful little creature.”

Genji can’t see Hanzo’s face but he can imagine it: teary-eyed, teeth gnashing, cheeks red with a combination of anger and humiliation. A sharp inhale of breath — then a slow, quaking exhale, and Hanzo goes boneless. His jaw loosens, and Sojiro’s thumb slips into his mouth. “There you are,” Sojiro says, a pleased rumble.

Genji’s cock flexes against the round of Hanzo’s ass. He groans, impatient, though it tapers off into a grumble when Sojiro’s steely gaze flickers upward. “Pa- _pa_ ,” he whines anyway, knowing that he’ll be able to get away with it.

Their father has always been far more tolerant of Genji’s behavior — a brat by nature, he sometimes called him. Probably because there was no reason to bring him to heel. After all, Genji would never have to bear the weight of Hanzo’s responsibilities, the expectations that came with being the eldest, the future _oyabun_. An unfair, but simple truth.

Besides, Hanzo would never stoop so low as to beg — not without a great deal of convincing — while Genji has no such reservations.

Shameless.

So Sojiro rolls his eyes, which Genji takes as implicit permission to yank Hanzo’s shorts down, bunching them down around his thighs. His pert little ass jiggles as it’s exposed, and Genji can’t resist the temptation to slap it just to see the ripple, the pinking of skin. Hanzo practically yowls, outraged, though it’s muffled by Sojiro’s fingers.

“Your ass is so cute, bro,” Genji coos through a grin. Hanzo’s fingers leave gouges in the mat as he curls them, probably as a substitute for digging out Genji’s eyes as he’d like to do. He growls quietly around Sojiro’s fingers, but it’s also followed by the wet sound of suckling.

Then he goes still as he feels Genji’s bare cock slide against his rear, hot, twitching. Gentle back and forth, catching at the rim of Hanzo’s asshole.

He wants it. Genji can tell. Hanzo won’t say it, but Genji can see how is asshole is clenching, can see the slick glistening on the lips of his pussy.

“Father—” Hanzo tries to say around Sojiro’s fingers. His voice is suspiciously high-pitched.

Sojiro hushes him, at the same time one of his hands is working on undoing the fly of his slacks. “Take it like a good boy.”

Hanzo _whines_. Then jolts when the rough pad of Genji’s thumb rubs against the tight pucker of his asshole, pressing in a bit meanly.

Despite his reputation, Genji doesn’t carry lube on his person at all time, so he makes due: he spits on Hanzo’s asshole. Feels the shock surge through Hanzo’s body, hears his low hiss.

“Don’t worry, big bro,” Genji says, grinning widely. “You’re making plenty as well.” He slides his fingers between the lips of Hanzo’s dripping cunt, getting them nice and wet. Then without warning he corkscrews a finger into Hanzo’s ass, forcing in where he’s hot, tight, pulsing.

Hanzo’s hips lift off the floor, a furious squeak escaping his lips. He’s not used to being treated like this, like he isn’t some precious object, the dragon heir.

Sojiro laughs at him. “I have something better for you to do with your mouth,” he says. He guides his cock to Hanzo’s mouth, tapping it gently against his lips. Hanzo visibly wavers. Then he reluctantly parts his lips, tongue peeking out to taste the spongy head.

Sojiro doesn’t give him time to adjust. He digs his fingers into Hanzo’s cheeks, forcing him to open up, then pushes in without hesitation. Hanzo gives a half-hearted groan of protest, gagging as it hits the back of his throat. His shoulders shudder.

“Relax your throat,” Sojiro says in a voice that might as well be made of steel. “You know how to do this properly.”

Hanzo sniffles, but the tension goes out of his shoulders. It takes him a few tries to get it right, spit slicking down his chin and into the patchy beard he’s been cultivating, but soon enough he’s got his nose pressed into the wiry dark hairs on Sojiro’s. His throat clicks as he takes their father deep.

Genji can imagine just how it feels; he’s been on the receiving end more than once. Hanzo’s technique isn’t the best, but what he lacks in skill he makes up for with sheer persistence and willpower. With almost virginal tightness.

Genji reaches forward, cups the underside of Hanzo’s throat. He feels the bulge of their father’s cock, the spasming of Hanzo’s throat as he struggles to breathe.

Meanwhile Genji’s got three fingers toying with Hanzo’s ass, squelching as they push in and out, stretching the taut muscle until it’s puffy and slick. Perhaps unconsciously, Hanzo is fucking back onto them, hips moving in sharp, desperate circles.

Despite it all, he’s still so tight that Genji is sure that his dick would be strangled if he even tried to push in.

So Genji helps him relax. His hand slips away from Hanzo’s throat and instead reaches beneath him, into the cradle of his hips. Hanzo chokes, shivers as Genji begins to rub circles at his clit. It plumps up readily beneath his fingers, slick and fat and jumping with Hanzo’s thudding pulse.

A petulant whine breaks out of Hanzo’s throat when Genji pulls his hands away too soon, but it quickly tapers off into a gurgle when Hanzo feels the hot press of Genji’s dick against the pucker of his asshole. Hanzo tenses, relaxes, squirms against the steady push forcing him open and open.

Even with prep he’s still impossibly tight, hot. Clutching and kneading greedily at Genji’s cock like he wants it there forever.

It feels like an age passes by the time he’s fully seated. The only sound in the room now is Genji’s panting, Sojiro’s quiet grunts. The wet click of Hanzo’s throat and the little whimpers he can’t contain every now and again.

Genji feels hot and tight himself, already ready to burst. And he’s only just started, hips moving in uneven little jolts against Hanzo’s ass.

Hanzo’s moaning steadily around Sojiro’s dick now, his hips rutting down against the mat, chasing any sort of friction he can get. Sojiro hums, then pinches Hanzo’s nose to pull him off with a sloppy wet noise.

Hanzo’s lips are red and swollen, his mouth and chin shiny with saliva. He looks almost dazed, rubbing his cheek frantically against the palm of Sojiro’s hand.

Sojiro smiles.

“Lift him up, Genji,” he says. “Let me see his cunt.”

Hanzo snaps to attention at that. His eyes are wide, suspiciously shiny. “Father, wait— I can’t—”

“You can,” Sojiro says, watching hungrily as Genji settles back on his heels and pulls Hanzo into his lap, spearing him deep. “You will.” He clicks his tongue as Hanzo’s legs tense and squeeze together, trying to shield that hot, greedy place inside of him.

“Enough.” Hanzo jumps as Sojiro swats at his hip as one might reprimand a misbehaving horse. Genji can feel Hanzo tensing unhappily around him, squeezing his cock in a vice-grip — then reluctantly, oh-so slowly parting his thighs.

“ _Good_ boy.”

Hanzo’s breath picks up as Sojiro pushes two thick fingers in without preamble. Genji feels like he could come just listening to the wet noises that Hanzo’s cunt makes as their father’s fingers slide in and out, twisting and spreading meanly.

Sojiro takes his sweet time working Hanzo open until he’s soft inside and gaping, and dripping all over the mat. By this point Hanzo is begging for it, not with his words — never with his words, not anymore, not even for their father — but with his trembling hips, with the arch of his spine, with his fingernails digging into Genji’s arms where they’re wrapped around his middle.

At that point, Genji is just trying to hold on. He’s so hard that it’s painful.

“Hold still.”

That’s the only warning they get before Sojiro shifts the pair of them, pushing at Genji’s shoulder until he scoots back, and hitching Hanzo up onto his thighs. Hanzo’s breath comes in short, sharp gasps. Then stills. His lower back quivers.

Genji peers over his shoulder, mouth hanging open as he watches Sojiro’s cock slowly disappearing into Hanzo’s cunt, the pretty dark lips spreading so beautifully for it.

Hanzo is chuffing like a steam engine as he’s fully mounted, stuffed in both holes and trembling between Genji and Sojiro’s bodies. He curls his legs around Sojiro’s waist. Buries his face in his shoulder.

“Papa,” he chokes out before he can stop himself. His voice is terribly small.

It’s the softest, the most vulnerable Hanzo will ever allow himself to be. And only for their father, only ever for their father.

Maybe Genji’s a little jealous. For him, Hanzo is nothing but prickly and hard. Armored like dragon’s scales.

But then again, he supposes that Hanzo’s little whimpers, his quivering body, his whispered words — they’re precious in their rarity.

Hanzo is soaking wet. Genji can feel the slick running down the crack of his ass and dripping onto the mat. The squelching noises produced by each powerful thrust of Sojiro’s hips nearly have Genji drooling, head tossing in his arousal.

“Big brother. You’re such a slut,” he says, whispering it right into Hanzo’s ear like it’s a secret. Hanzo shudders, his ears lighting up red.

Gasps as he feels Sojiro’s lips brush against his other ear.

“He’s right,” their father rumbles, deep, slow. Much like the movements of his hips. “You’ve got such a sweet cunt.” His teeth scrape against the lobe of Hanzo’s ear.

“Just like your mother.”

Hanzo’s orgasm jolts through his body like an electric shock: he throws his head back, nearly cracking into Genji’s nose in the process, and sobs out his pleasure. His body clenches rhythmically around their cocks, milking them both for all they’re worth. Greedy, wanting, demanding.

Genji loses it instantly, eyes rolling back in his head. He sinks his teeth into the join of Hanzo’s neck and shoulder to muffle what might have been a curse, might have been a shout, his release almost violent in its intensity.

Sojiro has the presence of mind to keep his composure, panting once, twice, groaning, then sighing contentedly in Hanzo’s ear.

Hanzo is actually sniffling, tears of pleasure glistening at the corners of his eyes. Sojiro coos at him and brushes Hanzo’s long hair back over his shoulder. Runs his fingers through it.

“It’s not so bad to be humbled once in a while, is it?” he says, voice silky. Hanzo grumbles something indistinct, tucking his face against the side of Sojiro’s neck.

Sojiro chuckles quietly.

“Genji,” he says. Genji snaps out of his post-orgasmic daze with a snort.

“Papa?”

“I want you to clean him up.” Gentle, but definitely an order.

Genji’s mouth waters at the mere prospect. “Yes, Papa.”

Hanzo, naturally, is embarrassed about it. He hides his face in the back of his hand as he lays back in their father’s lap, belly tensing at every slow, hot lave of Genji’s tongue across his cunt and asshole. Sojiro is watching with a sort of sleepy half-interest, a big hand lazily groping at one of Hanzo’s perky little tits.

Genji is diligent in his task, savoring the salty flavor of his and Sojiro’s come as he gently laps it out of Hanzo’s holes. Hanzo himself is sweet; Genji takes his time licking at every soft fold of his pussy, reveling in the way Hanzo shifts and sighs.

His hand comes to rest on Genji’s head, petting him idly.

By the time Genji’s finished, Hanzo seems like himself again, gripping a little meanly at Genji’s hair as he gazes imperiously down at him.

“You did cheat,” he says. Pouting, sulky. Sojiro snorts softly.

Genji grins up at the pair of them. Pushes himself up to brush his lips against Hanzo’s, a kiss that he thinks Hanzo only just tolerates.

“A little cheating never hurt anyone,” he says. He slips his hand over Hanzo’s throat, thumb coming to rest over his Adam’s apple.

“For the three of us, I’d say it worked out just fine.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
